


It's Hard To Be The Bard

by electraDandelion



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Dandelion has a mid-life crisis, Geraskier, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Post-The Witcher 3, Song fic, TW3 References but no spoilers, but its casual (so he doesnt die), emotions expressed through song, gerlion, let these dumb old men be happy 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electraDandelion/pseuds/electraDandelion
Summary: Now that he’s gotten older, and more importantly,famous, it’s gotten... harder to write songs. While Dandelion loved being a famous and respected bard... all he really yearned to do was travel out on the open road again with Geralt.+++Set after the events ofThe Witcher 3, Dandelion has settled into life at his tavern: The Chameleon.The alcohol, the music and the ease of it all was more than he could ever ask for. But when Geralt finally stops by and sees his bard perform for the first time in probably years... will Dandelion take the opportunity to finally bare all his emotions for his witcher and find a way back into his life?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 60





	It's Hard To Be The Bard

**Author's Note:**

> Summary part 2:
> 
> Dandelion misses his witcher, and basically has a mid-life crisis in self-indulgent song fic form.
> 
> This is set after the events of Witcher 3, but it will be told with no major plot spoilers, and a knowledge of game canon is not necessary. Canon is really only referenced, so as long as you know who Jaskier/Dandelion the character is… you’ll still like this fic. Just pure, self-indulgent song fic goodness about 2 old men who aren't _really_ old men who deserve to find happiness after all these years ;0;

Now that he’s gotten older, and more importantly, _famous_ , it’s gotten... harder to write songs.

While Dandelion loved being a famous and respected bard... all he really yearned to do was travel out on the open road again with Geralt.

He missed his muse (his friend, the man he has been in love with for _decades_ ). When Dandelion was traveling and getting himself into danger (and being saved by the witcher), inspiration was never out of reach.

When he was younger, Dandelion probably wrote a new song in each town they traveled through. Nowadays, he was lucky if he could write one every season.

Sure, he dabbled in playwriting now that he was based out of Novigrad, but that was a once a year event at _best_.

He really just longed for the days of leisurely adventure and going from town to town with every contract. Also, Dandelion just really wanted to see Geralt more.

Dandelion always kept a room open at The Chameleon for Geralt. He never even once thought about charging him a single crown. Wherever Dandelion happened to reside at any given moment would always be a home to Geralt as well.

Even though Geralt had a free room **and** a magic stash (that Dandelion had to literally blackmail Yennefer to enchant for him) at his disposal, the witcher hardly ever even stopped by for a drink or a chat. 

Dandelion knew that it was because first off: best friends don't need to see each other every day or even talk more than every once and a while to _still_ be best friends. Their friendship had spanned decades, fights, lovers quarrels, injuries, heartbreak, and even more monsters and songs than either of them could count. Nothing could change that. 

Second; the life of a witcher — even one as world-renowned as Geralt of Rivia — was unpredictable at _best_ . Even if Geralt _did_ plan trips to Novigrad every once in a while (which, he wouldn’t, because he hated cities), chances are that half of those plans would probably fall through due to urgent contracts he would inevitably pick up on the way. 

Those visits were so few and far between (as well as criminally short), that Dandelion didn't even think that Geralt had seen him play or perform since he had opened up The Chameleon. Of course, despite owning the joint, Dandelion primarily _managed_ the tavern. He booked bards from all over the continent to play, traveling acts to come and bring big crowds, organized large performances and burlesque acts with local talent… and then sometimes he even helped Zoltan with the books and the bar. 

But that didn’t mean that Dandelion didn’t still perform. Most often, he actually performed in duet with his partner, Priscilla. 

Priscilla was the resident bard at The Chameleon, which made her Dandelion’s coworker, roommate _and_ one of his best friends. She performed at least 4 shows a week, and Dandelion performed with her whenever she wanted to include a duet in one of her sets. Some nights, they even perform a whole set as a duo under their stage name _The Amazing Devil_. 

She was one of the main reasons Dandelion stayed. He had never had a musical partner he could always turn to for advice when writing a song, a partner to duet with, or someone to drunkenly belt with before. That was why he almost always made himself available. He would really only stand watch and supervise his own tavern (instead of hiring a bodyguard or a barker) for his two best friends.

It was a little strange, but he found it almost like having a female version of himself. She was Dandelion’s match and equal in the bardic arts — equally talented in lute and voice, as well as being dramatically, musically and lyrically gifted. 

He really enjoyed Priscilla’s company and was always grateful for her friendship. At one point long ago, they had tried for something more along the lines of a romantic relationship... but the two found that they were honestly too similar. Plus, being music partners was way less complicated when they were friends as opposed to lovers. 

Frankly, Dandelion actually hadn’t really lived up to his “reputation” for a few years. Ever since he had settled down in Novigrad, endless romps didn’t have the same appeal as they used to.

Sure, he had countless ex-lovers and flings scattered all around the city and the continent, but he hadn’t slept with the vast majority of them in years. Of course, Dandelion still had a few arrangements and _beneficial_ relationships that helped take care of some of his needs... but he wasn’t nearly as big a fan of casually falling in love as he used to be.

That probably had a little or a lot to do with how preoccupied his heart was with thoughts of his witcher. 

Back to business, Dandelion primarily worked as a manager and producer at The Chameleon — not as a performer or bard. He had already put 2 bands together, 3 if you count his own. As an event manager, he found the best talent from across the continent and held concerts on a biweekly basis. Music was a constant fixture at his bar, but it was honestly more of a performance venue than a tavern at this point. 

Each month, a patron could count on at least 6 concerts from traveling talent, 6 performances from local talent (including Dandelion and/or Priscilla as resident bards), daily sets from the professional bands, monthly burlesque shows, and even some collaborative efforts from the players or Polly’s dance troupe. 

Dandelion found that he had a knack for running a music venue, and lived for showcasing underappreciated talent. (He _did_ start his career as a bard doing just that for Geralt, so it made sense.) 

But still, he _was_ a resident bard. Even if inspiration was far harder to come by these days, that did not mean Dandelion didn’t have a huge repertoire to call upon whenever he performed. Owning a tavern and music venue also had its advantages when it came to creative freedom — as well as resources. 

Having an entire band at your beck and call was one of those. Especially considering nearly every song was better with a little bit of percussion. 

By taking residency and performing nearly every week, Dandelion had soon found himself a steady audience of regular patrons — as well as his employees and friends — who all knew his songs. They knew when to clap, they knew when to sing along, and they knew how to feed off his energy. It was far more than he could have ever asked for, but so was owning a bar like this. 

One of his new favorite past times however, was creating new types of music and performances. 

As a traveling bard, Dandelion had primarily performed solo, only rarely performing with other bards and instruments when he appeared in a royal court or ran into an old friend/rival in another tavern. 

But that didn’t mean that Dandelion didn’t know how to play or compose for these other instruments. Now that he had a full band playing every day, and especially a band that he _trusted_ at his disposal with only a few days notice… Dandelion got to perform songs and make full productions that he could never have dreamed of while traveling on the road. 

Seriously, if he could travel with back up singers everywhere… 

Anyways, Dandelion set aside one or two nights a month to perform with his band. Every show was different; he had dancers, back up singers and musicians proficient at nearly every instrument. He loved experimenting with different ways to perform on and off a stage without being tied to his lute. Sometimes he even joined in on the choreography and fun with his band. It was also amazing how easy it was to flirt with the audience when your hands were free to do whatever…

But speaking of the lute, that was something that Dandelion knew he could never live without for long. The bard probably played a lute set once a week or at _least_ every two weeks. It was what made Dandelion famous — lute was his bread and butter, and reminiscing on his classics always felt like coming home.

A good number of his songs were laced with nostalgia from his travels with Geralt. His greatest hits like “Toss a Coin” and rowdy tavern favorites like “Fishmonger’s Daughter” always found their way back into the walls of his establishment. Some of the songs he played were new, but even then, Dandelion still somehow managed to make nearly every song he wrote relate back to his witcher. Subtly or not.

Over the years, Dandelion had filled up countless reems of parchment with abandoned lyrics, hastily jotted down stories of monster hunts and embarrassingly pining journal entries. Despite not having actively traveled with the witcher in decades, all of the bard’s best songs still ended up revolving around Geralt and his adventures. Or his surprising kindness. Or how no matter how far and wide Dandelion had searched, he had never found someone that made his heart sing so purely.

More recently, his tavern-friendly tunes had drifted back toward the open road rather than ballads of monster fighting. Wanderlust must be a fairly universal feeling, especially in times of turmoil. Longing for the open road and no responsibilities always made sense as a theme since their world was constantly upturned in war. But for Dandelion, his wanderlust came from a place of nostalgia for the best years of his life, with a witcher at his side. 

While he was fairly confident that Geralt had probably heard a few of his newer songs by now, it was not the same as hearing _him_ perform them. Copying was indeed a high form of flattery, but some nights Dandelion longed for nothing more than to serenade Geralt with all of his feelings he had repressed for years. 

Another thing about Dandelion, was that with age, he felt himself growing more sappy by the season. But he was a bard by nature, and those feelings ruled him with an iron fist. Luckily music and songwriting was probably the healthiest outlet for those emotions. Well, it was, as long he was set on pining for his entire extended life. 

One thing about living as long as he had, comparatively to an average human, was that he had acquired many skills over the years. 

As a noble son, appreciation for the arts was instilled at a young age, and honing upper class talents was encouraged. This was how Julian Alfred Pankratz first learned to play the piano.

Too bad his parents didn’t know that it would spur a lifelong love of music. There was hardly ever anything else that young Julian had on his mind. Piano was actually one of his only skills he was grateful to his noble life for. 

He also trained the instrument at Oxenfurt; it had been useful for learning music theory and for songwriting. Dandelion would even say he had developed quite the talent as a recital pianist before he carved out his own name as a bard on the road. 

Of course, it was a hobby that had fallen by the wayside from disuse over a few decades. Even if Dandelion had always preferred the free and uninhibited feeling that came with carrying a lute on his back, he would be lying if he said he hadn’t missed the piano. But now that he had his own personal performance hall, Dandelion’s first big investment in the property, aside from renovations, was a nice piano. 

Before settling down, Dandelion rarely ever got to play the piano and perform because so few places on the continent actually had one. Especially when his most frequented venues were run-down village taverns. 

There was just something so _intimate_ that came with sitting at a piano — being able to fully immerse himself in his music and the feeling of the keys resonating in his chest. Writing songs while sitting on the bench and plunking away on the endless sea of white keys was such a raw and vulnerable feeling. Performing for an audience entirely seated was something else entirely from the rest of his bardic career. 

Dandelion would always consider himself a consummate performer; being able to weave in and out of audiences and feel their enthusiasm in the same breath he would use to sing was always _exhilarating._ But sitting at the piano and laying his soul bare was an entirely unprecedented, yet possibly even more freeing experience. Plus, anyone who said you can't “perform” while playing the piano had obviously never seen Dandelion _play._

He actually only played the piano on days where he was filling in an empty performance slot or a cancellation in the lineup. Dandelion knew his patrons usually preferred upbeat music from a band or a lute, but sometimes he would indulge himself and slow it down a little bit.

Tonight just so happened to be one of those nights.

Wednesdays were reserved for “special entertainment” at The Chameleon. Dandelion really had a knack for booking unique artists and livening up the art scene in Novigrad. On his most recent trip back to Oxenfurt, he had quite nearly fallen for a seriously magical harpist. She had such an ethereal quality to her singing, and strummed her instrument as if it were an extension of herself, and Dandelion knew that her talent was destined to titillate the tastes of his discerning patrons. 

Dandelion had kept in touch with her as she finished up her studies at the university, and offered her a headline spot for the first feasible date after her graduation. One of his most treasured aspects of his new life was being able to pay it forward by giving young artists the opportunities he wished he had been offered. 

However, as is to be expected when it comes to art and travel, nothing ever goes according to plan. 

The bard had received a letter from the harpist late in the afternoon that she was not going to be able to make it to Novigrad. Storms had littered the east all week, and with an instrument as expensive and rare as a full sized harp, weather was always a factor in travel plans. 

Her regret portrayed in her letter seemed genuine, as the young woman had tried to head out on the road in a covered wagon five separate times over the course of three days. And while a linen roof and a solid case can protect from a lot of the elements, it can only do so much to protect against raging storms, floods and endless lightning. 

Dandelion understood, and would never hold it against the girl. So with a sigh, he stood from where he had been seated at his desk in his large private room, and began to descend down the stairs. 

Sure, bardic bands were great _all_ the time — and that’s why Dandelion employed two full-time bands at his establishment. But that was _all the time._

Tonight was a _Wednesday_ , and any man, woman and non-human of taste knew the only place to be was at The Chameleon for the weekly artist spotlight and concert series. And he knew that his patrons would not stand for _any_ bardic band when they had been promised a special musical event. What they would stand for, and _gladly_ , was the famous bard Dandelion in a raw, impromptu performance. 

As the clock struck out 8 chimes, Dandelion looked out into the nearly full general area of his bar, and glided over to take his seat at his piano. It didn’t even take an introduction to quiet down the ambient socializing throughout the space. All it took was for Dandelion to take in one slow breath as he raised up a single lithe hand high above the keys, conducting the audience’s anticipation. 

He might not have a witcher’s heightened senses, but in that breath he could still taste the alcohol that flowed directly from his taps to his customer’s lips. The air felt wet against his skin, the rain imbuing his establishment with just a bit more humidity with each person that passed through his doors. Raindrops also served as a calming, muted metronome of a rhythm that helped to focus his mind on the notes that were tingling the tip of his tongue and his fingers.

Dandelion felt his whole body shift with the melodic twinkling of his first [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sMeJ4yod9mY) **,** swaying and letting himself lose the tension in his shoulders that built up before every performance. 

Not even three measures in, his concentration was broken by the rushing sound of rain being let in by a late admission. Normally, Dandelion tried not to let himself get distracted by audience members coming and going, but something about the substantial steps and the faint _clanking_ of metal made him turn his head up to look.

A shock of white, wet hair was all Dandelion needed to feel his heart do a flip and his breath catch in his throat. He couldn’t help the timid smile that began to quiver at his mouth as his tongue flitted through his lips in nervous anticipation.

The last thing he had expected on this gloomy night was to perform for Geralt for the first time in _years_ . But the piano had always been an emotional outlet for him; and maybe, just _maybe_ , the witcher would stay to hear those emotions spelled out plainly. He always had been more of a listener than a talker, so maybe his songs were just the thing Dandelion needed to get that conversation started again.

He turned back to face the piano as the wistful tempo jumped, but Dandelion couldn’t keep the smile on his face from growing into a genuine grin. Even from out of the corner of his eye, Dandelion could see his witcher quickly find his way to a small corner table that was situated close to the both the stairwell and the bar — as well as offering an unimpeded view of both the door and the stage.

Happiness and nervousness fluttered in Dandelion’s heart to the syncopated beat of his song, already threatening to overwhelm the bard with his heightened adrenaline. Even as he began to softly sing the opening notes of his first song, he couldn't fight the smile that only grew the more he could feel Geralt’s intense amber gaze focused only on him.

_“I was your sailor, your demon, your lover — your overbearing best friend… hoping for some attention…”_

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter [@ElectraInTheAir](https://twitter.com/ElectraInTheAir) ! I make dumb witcher posts and sometimes write fic there!
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed this first chapter, because this fic is going to be a self-indulgent, song-fic RIDE but it's also going to be really fun.
> 
> An FYI that because this is going to be a song-based fic, so please let me know if you guys prefer 1) some lyrics only, 2) lyrics + song linked in fic, or 3) whole sections of the fic dedicated to certain songs. I have scenarios and dialogue planned for all of these scenarios, but if too much song is a distraction, I can parse it down for plot reasons <3
> 
> I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts or any wishes/song suggestions for this fic, so please let me know what you think in the comments <3 Thanks for reading, and I can't wait to share the rest of Dandelion playing the piano with y'all!


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